Actions Speak Louder Than Words
by nine-tails8
Summary: A mysterious girl draws Takuma into her life and vice versa. What is the loneliness behind her eyes? How did she get here? Who is she? And how does she know him almost as well as he does himself? TakumaXOC ONESHOT.


For my friends and people I love 3

Disclaimer: I do not own Vampire Knight or the characters mentioned except for Mitsukai.

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It started out as any other day for him. Get up, get dressed, and go to "school".

She just seemed to appear. He was sitting down in his office, doing some paperwork when she walked in.

Her hair was the oddest colour ever. It was bright pink, obviously dyed, and long. At the moment she had it down, but after a few minutes of conversing with him she pulled it up over her shoulder, tying it there. Other than her hair, her eyes seemed to be the oddest. They were a golden colour, but they held a guarded sadness to them. He felt drawn to them, though he didn't know why.

It took him a few more moments to realize she was human. Humans don't usually have eyes the colour hers were. When he had realized what she was, it had only heightened his curiosity as to why, and how, she got here. Humans weren't allowed in the moon dorms.

When he asked her, she just smiled softly –what a kind smile she had, he thought- and tactfully changed the subject to something else.

To her, the boy in front of her was handsome, yet still contained a child-like innocence to him. What really drew her to him though was that even though he hid it well, she sensed the deep sadness inside of him. He didn't know, but it was reflected in his eyes. His beautiful, green eyes. They really were very stunning to her. It was rare to find a blonde with green eyes. She liked it, it was different. She liked different.

She had noticed almost right away that he was wearing a mask. Not an actual one, but an emotional one. His was of happiness and casualty, meaning he felt the exact opposite. He was guarded, sad, and did not give out trust easily. It was obvious that he –like her- had been hurt many times. Emotionally, mentally, and physically. Because of whom she was and her caring nature, as soon as she saw all this, she immediately wanted to help him.

He found she was pleasant to talk to. He could tell she was sharp and caught onto things quickly. She could also tell when she hit a topic he didn't want to talk about. When this happened, she quickly changed the subject, thought he knew she would listen if he ever needed to talk.

She was from a wealthy family, though you wouldn't know it. She wasn't one of those people who flaunted their money around like it was the best thing in the world. She didn't like the people that lived with her, he found, though she didn't elaborate. She, also, had trust issues.

Soon –too soon, they thought, - she had to leave. She had to get home before someone realized she left. She wasn't allowed outside.

It was only after she had left did he notice the smell. It was a mixture of strawberries, vanilla and irises. What a pleasant, elegant smell, he had thought. They both didn't want her to leave. He had finally found someone he thought he could be himself around, and she had found someone to call a friend.

She left though, and he didn't see her for a while. Day after day he started to lose hope in seeing her, until one night, during a walk, he heard it. It was a beautiful noise, and it played a sad, haunting tune. It was a violin, he realized, and whoever was playing it was very skilled.

He followed the noise and it led him to a meadow. It was odd though, for there were irises blooming all around it. As far as he knew, irises didn't bloom in winter. It was then, he noticed, that it wasn't a meadow, but part of a large garden. Through the darkness he could see a grand manor with no lights on, as everyone was asleep at this hour. With that thought, he was curious as to who was playing at it was late/early.

He looked closer, his enhanced sight being able to see the player's form perfectly.

She was standing in the middle of her garden, violin tucked safely under her chin as she played. She was out here so late (well, early), because it was the only time she could play without being yelled at. She drew the bow against the strings, a light smile forming on her lips as she closed her eyes. Playing always relaxed her and made her feel at ease.

Her thoughts drifted off to the boy she met a few days ago. She had been trying to get out and go see him again, but the only times she had been able to get out was when everyone was sleeping, including him, she thought.

She decided that she liked him. Not _like _like. She wasn't going to be stupid enough to let herself get hurt like that again, but she knew that she would trust him. If she was hurt, well, she'll never trust anyone again, simple as that.

The girl hadn't even noticed the boy watching her. As he did watch, he noticed things. Her violin was one of a kind. It was pure white, and he noticed that on the head in dark, cursive writing was a name. Her name, he assumed, that was engraved there, and it read _Mitsukai__ ._ He also noticed her hair. It was long and a snow white colour. It reminded him of the girl he had met the other day. He quickly shook the thought from his head. He really needed to stop thinking about her. Besides, she had pink hair. But what would stop her from dying it again? he thought.

As he was thinking all this, the girl's song came to an end, and impulsively, he stepped out into the open where she could see him, and he clapped. He spoke up, telling her that she was a wonderful player.

The girl's eyes quickly snapped open in surprise and locked onto him. Realizing who it was before he did, a red blush spread across her pale cheeks and she knelt down. When she kneeled, she placed her violin down quickly in its white leather case and stood back up.

It was only when she came over and hugged him, saying she was happy to see him again did he realize who it was. She pulled back, looking up at him questionably, asking why he was out here so late.

He just smiled and wrapped his arms around her, returning the greeting hug. He surprised himself when he did this. He might have been a happy-go-lucky person, but he didn't hug people very much, especially not humans or people he just met.

As he realized what he was doing, he quickly apologized and let go of her. She just smiled and told him it was fine.

After taking a few steps back, he once more told her that her playing was beautiful.

A blush rose onto her cheeks in response to the compliment. She thanked him and told him that it was her father that gave her the violin when she was 5. She turned around, going back to her while leather violin case and picked it up.

While her back was turned, the male watched her form. No, not in a perverted way, but watching her hair swing back and forth, from side to side as she walked. Curious as to why she dyed it, he asked. Her reply though, was unexpected. She had simply stated that she didn't want to be found. From what though, she didn't say.

She was being secretive, he realized. She doesn't trust him enough to tell him. That will soon change though, he thought. It was then he decided that he would gain her trust. Not to hurt her, but to help her. He didn't understand why, but just that he wanted to, and he would.

They sat and talking for a while. He found she was slowly opening up more. He had learned about her past experiences with men, which explained her distrust of him. He told her that he would never do something like that. That he would be a loyal friend. She had blinked a few times, thinking about his words until finally a small smile spread across her face and she said she knows. He had smiled back. Not a fake happy smile, but a real one. Even though it was small, he still saw her eyes light up at the sight of it.

The sun slowly started to begin to rise and she sighed, standing up. He had asked her what she was going, and she replied that she had to leave. This surprised him, as he had assumed that the manor over there was hers. He was not wrong, it _was_ hers, and that was why she had to leave. He didn't understand though.

The girl sighed a bit, glancing back at her manor, then back to her new blond-haired, green-eyed friend. It was a long, calculated silence in which she, in her head, debated whether or not to tell him. Eventually, though, she began to tell him.

Her parents died in an accident when she was 5, her violin being their last gift to her. Since she was too young to take care of herself, and had no living relatives, she was stuck with a foster family. This "family" though, insisted on living at her estate, and the 5 year old had no choice but to agree.

Slowly though, as she grew older, she began to notice things. Her "parents" (who she began to call caretakers for they acted nothing like parents) had her take "etiquette lessons" and such. Things to be a "proper lady". But this, she realized, was to keep her in line. To not misbehave and not to notice what they were really after. But she did. She noticed it all. All they had wanted was her money, and would do almost anything for it.

She concluded her story by saying that they had never let her out, but this time she had gotten out and she was never going back. She constantly changed her hair so she isn't recognized by anyone looking for her.

All throughout her story, the blond sat quietly and listened. At the end of the tale, he felt angered at how people could be so greedy that they would ruin an innocent girl's life.

It was then, he decided once more, that he would tell her his secret. He knew that she knew he was hiding something, but she was patient enough not to question him on it, and too kind and polite to pry. So he told her what he was.

A vampire.

At first she was surprised and slightly scared. He was hurt that she would be afraid of him. She reminded herself of this, and that he was still the same blond she knew, just knew more about him now. That was the only thing that had changed.

For her, something precious came with his confession, and that was his trust. Trust, to her, was just as precious, if not more so, than love. With these revelations, her fear was washed away, replaced with happiness and questions.

He found she was a very curious girl, always asking questions and wanting to know everything she could;

How can you be in the sun? (By this time it was early in the dawn) Blood tablets, what are those? What happens if you spill the "water"? What's it taste like? You don't sparkle in the sun, do you? (He chuckled at that one) What happens if you bite someone? How do you turn into a vampire? Level E?

And so on.

He found it cute how questioning she was. It was the first time she had talked so much besides about her family and past.

They spent the whole day talking, not noticing the sun had gone down until she yawned, and they stopped talking for the night so they could sleep. Well, so _she_ could sleep.

It had been a few months now that they had known each other. She found out his name, it was Takuma Ichijou. She thought it was a nice name. Over the past couple months, they had grown closer and now considered each other best friends. He knew practically everything about her, and she knew his biggest secret.

It was exciting for her, having her closest friend be a vampire. It had actually helped because when she left home, it was winter, and since she had no place to go, she often fell asleep outside. One night, though, it had snowed and she was half-buried in it. If it wasn't for the fact that the tree above her had sheltered her mostly, she would have been completely buried and would have died.

When he had first saw her, his heart skipped a beat, thinking she actually _did_ die. Then, though, he heard her heartbeat and let out a relieved breath.

He worked quickly, pulling her out of the snow, realizing then how cold she was. He had hurried her back to his dorm room since it was closer and he was thankful no one was there at the time.

He put her down in his bed and tucked the blankets in around her. He quickly ran to Shiki's bed and grabbed the blankets off that, as well, knowing he wouldn't mind and put _them_ on top of the girl as well, worried for her health and safety. As he watched her continue to shiver, he got an idea. He sat on his bed and moved the blankets enough so he could scooch in. He picked up her cold, shivering body and pulled it close to his, then made sure the blankets were secure around them both.

He was sitting up with the young woman on his lap, both of them wrapped in the blankets when she had started to stir. They had been like that for a few hours, and about 15 minutes of holding her, she had finally stopped shivering. He was relieved when she had; he had thought she had gotten hypothermia.

He never noticed it, but she had dyed her hair again. Now it was a vibrant red colour. He was curious about what her natural colour was. She never did tell him. He continued to look at her and gently brushed her hair from her face. She looked so sweet and cute when she slept.

He had been getting these thoughts a lot lately, and he didn't really know why, but when he saw her there and thought she was dead, he knew what it was. But what did she feel?

The male was snapped out of his thoughts by the female in his arms speaking softly. He had noticed a little while after he started talking to her that she had a faint, British accent, and he liked it, it made her sound more womanly, though, she playfully hit him when he said that.

He looking down at her and noticed his fingers still in her hair and a faint red to her cheeks. With a blush of his own he pulled his hand back with a mumbled apology.

She smiled a bit with a quiet laugh and told him it was fine. She had thought it felt nice, she told him. He blushed a bit more but smiled non-the-less and his fingers found her hair once more.

There was a long, peaceful and comfortable silence between the two. It wasn't until she mentioned about his eyes did he realize his hunger. During the past couple hours she'd been asleep, he hadn't gotten up once. Not even to get a blood tablet, which was dangerous as he hadn't had anything all day. He was so hungry.

You would think that having a vampire for a best friend, she would be wary of his hunger and be paranoid that he would kill her without meaning to. But that was not the case. On the contrary, actually. She had sometimes forgotten what he was most of the time, for he was so good at controlling it and acting human.

Though, there were times when it was hard on him, and she would be lying if she said she _wasn't_ scared at those times. Not only was she scared, though, but also worried about, and _for_ him.

This time, though, was the hardest on him. He had never been this hungry in a long time. And never, _ever_ had she been so close to him during it, or at all.

His dear, sweet Mitsukai. When did he start calling her that? He didn't know. All he could think about was her blood flowing through her veins. Her heart picking up its pace in fear as she noticed him staring.

He knew she was scared, yet he couldn't stop himself. Her scent was irresistible, meaning her blood had to be just as good, if not more. He knew he wasn't allowed to bite humans on school grounds, but what the Chairman and Kaname didn't know wouldn't hurt them, he thought as his cool lips gently brushed against her neck, along a large vein.

A faint whimper escaped her lips at the same time a blush rose to her cheeks. Her heart thudded hard and fast in her chest in both fear and something undefinable. She once more whimpered, this time whimpering out his name, so many thoughts going through her head at once.

He made a questioning noise, his green (now red) eyes looking up to her odd golden coloured ones. He felt her swallow hard and couldn't help but smirk a bit against her skin. She was cute when she was scared, he realized.

She closed her eyes and took a deep, shaky breath. What she was about to say would change the state of their relationship, she knew that. But for the better or worse she didn't know. All she knew was that she had to do this, for him.

What she said shocked him, and brought some humanity back to him.

She would allow him to drink from her.

But, he thought, what if he couldn't stop?

She trusted that he would. She knew he was suffering. She just wanted it to stop, to help him. He realized then that he had her complete trust. By putting her life in his hands, she showed it.

_He would not break that trust._

She felt his fangs pierce her skin with a sharp, icy sting. A sharp gasp escaped her lips as her eyes closed, her mind concentrating on the light sucking on her neck rather than the sound of him drinking her blood.

As her blood entered his mouth he had to force himself to hold back a soft moan. Her blood, to him, was like water to a dehydrated man in the desert.

He drank from her deeply. Though as he felt her starting to go limp in his arms, he slowly pulled his fangs out, licking the wound close.

She rested against him, feeling so tired now. She didn't notice, nor care, that her head was now resting in the dip between his chest/neck and shoulder and that his fingers were once more tangled in her hair.

He felt horrible. He could hear her breathing deeper than before and he couldn't stop apologizing. She just smiled, shaking her head. She told him that it doesn't matter. He needed it and she knew it. All that mattered to her was that he was okay now. He reassured her over and over that he was fine now and that it was _her_ he was worried about.

She sighed softly to herself but smiled. He was so sweet and kind to her. He had no reason to be worried like he is. She gently chewed on her bottom lip, debating something in her head once more.

He didn't notice her leaning upwards until he felt soft lips brush against his own, immediately stopping his string of apologies. His wide, surprised eyes looked down at the girl in his arms, a red tint to his face. He didn't quite know how to respond at the moment.

She slowly pulled back and looked up at him, a deep blush on her own cheeks. It was a good colour on her, he thought, not knowing she was thinking the same thing about him.

In this story of mine, there are no words except for those 3, innocent words that can sometimes speak louder than actions.

"_I love you,"_ escaped her lips that, just moments ago, were pressed against his.

Without speaking, the blond male once more pressed their lips together, deeper than before. And in that moment, she knew he felt the same, proving once and for all;

_**Actions speak louder than words**_**.**


End file.
